


The Shape of You (I Know That I'm In Love With You)

by lewis



Category: One Direction
Genre: M/M, a sad drabble tbh, but so is harry apparently, louis is sad, past relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-12
Updated: 2015-07-12
Packaged: 2018-04-09 00:55:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4327704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lewis/pseuds/lewis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They’re over but maybe they’re not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Shape of You (I Know That I'm In Love With You)

**Author's Note:**

> alright this is basically just an idea that's been in me head for ages and i actually wrote this quite a while ago, but i just really wanted to post it now. maybe, if y'all gonna like it, i'll make a proper story out of it. :) 
> 
> tell me what you think and feel free to point out grammatical errors and typos, in case you find any. :D
> 
> also, the song is “sun” by tdcc. 
> 
>  
> 
> \- all the love xx

Louis is mostly good now.

It’s been half a year now, and he’s starting to get used to it; it doesn’t hurt as much anymore—not 24/7, anyway. There are obviously those moments of remembering that have him fighting back tears within seconds, but. It’s not like they’re bringing Harry back, is what he tells himself in those moments.

He still believes that they could have worked it out, knows for a fact that he wouldn’t have given up, ever, but that wasn’t something for him to decide alone. He guesses that the worst part of it was that they never had a major fall out—just the slow process of growing apart without even noticing at first and then not being able to figure out how to come back together.

Or maybe the worst part of it was that—as much as it hurts to think it, let alone say it out loud—he was so, _so_ certain that Harry was the one, and really, he still believes that he won’t ever find anyone remotely close to being as perfect for him as Harry. Because Harry wasn’t just someone to kiss; he was Louis’s best friend, would have always been if it hadn’t been for Louis’s going to UNI and Harry’s starting a music career.

That— _that’s_ probably it: he didn’t just lose the love of his life but his best friend just as well, all at once.

It makes it worse that Harry left Louis alone in a flat made for two, that Louis has all these reminders of Harry sitting on cupboards or hanging on the walls; the body wash Harry spent hours mocking him for because it smelled like lavender and Harry, for some reason, grew up disliking that scent. It’s Louis’s favourite, so it’s for no other reason than his own pleasure that he still buys it. It’s definitely not because Harry also spent hours soaping Louis and himself up with it, despite the snarky comments he just couldn’t stop himself from murmuring under his breath as he worked it into Louis’s skin.

 

And now, at quarter past two on a sunny Wednesday, he’s tutoring a boy wearing a sweater that looks exactly like the one Louis used to steal from Harry to wear it with nothing but his naked skin. And it’s ridiculous, that he can’t stop sneaking glances at it, can’t help it when his heart skips a beat as his gaze catches on the stain by the collar of it—because there is no way in life that this is, indeed, literally the sweater that Louis spilled tomato sauce over that one time they visited Gemma in London.

“Oh,” the boy—Jai Green—says suddenly, pinching the front of the sweater between his fingers with a smile on his face, “something wrong with it? A stain on it? Other than the —”

“No,” Louis cuts in quickly, because he doesn’t want to hear him say it, “I like it.” He plasters a smile on his face despite the fact that he’d much rather cry at all the memories they’ve made with either one of them wearing it. “A lot, actually.”

What Jai says next has Louis going hot all over within a second. “Me too. It’s my boyfriend Harry’s,” he says nonchalantly, and Louis feels like he’s going to be sick on the floor and his shoes.

This has to be the worst thing ever, he thinks selfishly, until he remembers that he’s been through worse. He’s dizzy, though, and has to close his eyes tight against a wave of nausea.

“Louis, you alright?” Jai asks suddenly, looking more concerned than Louis would like him to be.

“Yeah, just —” He shrugs. “Dizzy. ’s kinda hot t’day.” He takes the glass of water Jai offers him, and presses it against his forehead. “What Harry?” he asks after a minute, before he realises how weird that sounded. “I mean, what’s his last name? Maybe I know him.”

He regrets it the second he asks, because now he won’t be able to pretend that it was all a weird coincidence and that some other Harry bought the same sweater and coincidentally stained it the same way Louis did. “Harry Styles,” Jai says, though, so there’s that. “I doubt you know him.”

Louis can’t help but laugh—a little surprised, a little sarcastic. A lot sad. “I do,” he murmurs, and for a second he loses himself in the memory of meeting Harry for the first time, all those years ago. “He used to be my—we used to be really close,” he says after a while.

Jai is watching him with a smile. “You looked a little angry there, for a second. What happened to you two?”

Louis can’t help but smile—he could never be angry with Harry; he’s just so, _so_ sad. “Just—we kind of drifted apart when Harry started his gigs with Ed, right, because I started UNI, and he just—he spent a lot of time with Ed and his friends but I didn’t and then we—lost contact.” It’s not the complete truth, but more of it than Louis would’ve liked to share.

Jai frowns. “That’s too bad,” he says softly, “I’m sorry. Harry’s a good person.”

“Yeah,” Louis breathes, “he is. Best I’ve ever known, actually.”

He wants to face palm, feels a rush of heat to his head at the raw truth of his statement.

“You’re a lucky boy, Jai.”

The boy looks touched for a second. “That’s so sweet of you.” His smile is gorgeous, Louis notices, but the selfish part of Louis’s brain is convinced that his own smile is prettier. “He’s—I love him a lot; he’s so—such a lovely person, but he’s weird, too, and in some twisted way, it makes him all the more gorgeous.”

And in some twisted way, Louis is equally jealous as proud of Harry for having someone love him now; that his heart still gets the love it deserves, although Louis’s brain is telling him that he was better for Harry, which. He’s _so_ selfish, Louis is, and maybe if it weren’t for his being so bloody self-centred all the time, he would’ve found a way to make a compromise with Harry instead of just ending things altogether.

“He has a heart of gold,” Louis agrees. “Too good for the world.” He snorts. “But, yeah, his addiction with kitten and babies is kind of freaky, innit?”

Jai barks a laugh. “God, yeah,” he exclaims, “and his love of bananas!”

 

They laugh a little longer, but it’s not mean because they’re both in love—ridiculously, helplessly. And Louis is—okay, of sorts: there’s nothing in the world he loves more than raving about Harry. He has to hold back a little, sometimes, but he’s okay with sharing what he can because with every bit of information he gives Jai, he gets a new detail about Harry from him in return.

He’s okay until Jai says, “God, this is so random, but you know how he just downright _despises_ the smell of lavender?”

Louis nods silently, swallows.

“I bought a little pot of lavender once, for the kitchen, and he went so mad.” He laughs whole-bodily. “Kept asking if I was insane— _Jai, I hate lavender so much, you don’t understand_ —and I couldn’t stop laughing because, like.”

“He’s always hated it, I know,” Louis says—just to say something, really, because he’s really just ridiculously, unexplainably scared as to where this is going.

Jai nods eagerly. “Right, but here comes the best: he has this shower gel, and it literally stenches of lavender? It’s so weird.”

No, Louis thinks, _no_. So much about being okay, he thinks bitterly. “That’s weird,” he agrees quietly.

Jai seems oblivious to his sudden change of mood. “And, like, it’s proper freaky because it’s literally always the same brand and he always keeps at least one back-up bottle in the cabinet under the sink.”

He’s still laughing, but it suddenly sound very mean to Louis, and he feels sick to the bone.

“He never lets me use it, though, says he wouldn’t want me to stench of this shit, which. _Alright_.”

Louis feigns confusion, tries hard not to start crying, and swallows hard against lump in his throat at what it means—what it must mean because there is no logical explanation for this other than that he misses Louis, and it’s good and bad at the same time, really; he’s so, so selfish, but then again, all he wants is for Harry to be happy.

Jai keeps talking, doesn’t take notice of Louis’s state, just keeps talking and talking and talking, and maybe he’s just as egoistic as Louis, because he talks about how Harry has never used it in his presence but whenever he showers for a long time, he comes back smelling of lavender, and how weird is that, and the fact that his eyes are always red after, so maybe he’s allergic to it? Because why else would his eyes be red-rimmed? But why does he keep buying it, then?

And he keeps talking when Louis presses a hand to his mouth and squeezes his eyes shut against the tears, and why does he not stop talking. “Jai,” Louis says loudly, once he manages to keep his breathing steady, “I just — I just realised we should get back to work. It’s getting late, though, so, do you wanna continue next week?”

His voice cracks twice but Jai is already busy nodding and apologising profusely that he’s sorry they wasted their time talking about Harry. Louis claims that no time spent talking about Harry is wasted time, and Jai looks relived.

Louis wonders if he’s always so blind to other people’s feeling and silently prays that he treats Harry the way he deserves to be treated; the way Louis would now treat him, if he got the chance to show Harry just how much he still means to him. They leave it at a simple _we’ll text, okay?_ and when Louis finally makes it to his car, there is literally nothing he can do but cry his soul out, because.

 

Because Harry misses him, and honestly, that’s the best thing that’s happened to Louis in months.


End file.
